I Love(d) You
by EmeraldDS
Summary: Remus and Sirius have never had to say "I love you". [post-poa, lie low at lupin's era]


A knee jittered, green-brown eyes flickering over the room. The silence of twelve years stretched between the two men seated upon the sofa. There was so much to say, yet even the bravest of Gryffindors could not have verbalised the immensity of their distance. To talk about things would take a kind of courage which differed from the type needed to turn the Slytherin common room red and gold, or the kind required to face a formidable Death Eater just because they had threatened one's love. No, this required an inner strength which neither man felt like mustering; the exhaustion of such an existence had drained both of them.

Instead, Remus uttered – so quietly that Sirius might not have heard him if he had not been focusing on every breath heaved by the other man, every saccade of his olive eyes magnified – "Sometimes I- sometimes I still believed you were innocent. I tried not to; I convinced myself that you were a traitor because it was easier to stomach than your being wrongfully imprisoned."

Sirius' expression was blank, colourless grey eyes fixated on some point in the distance. He seemed to be having some sort of headache, for his hand flew up to his forehead in order to rub it. A long, drawn out sigh escaped his lips as he met Remus' eyes at long last.

"Good," was all he said in response, clenching and unclenching his hands. He seemed to act as if he did not know what to say to such an admission, yet simultaneously, his single-word statement sounded like the surest proclamation of conviction. Perhaps it was that his eyes were lost and wandering, yet his voice told tales of certainty and curtness.

Remus' eyes shot up at the belated reply, his mouth drying up as he processed the one word.

"I'm sorry. That sounded really selfish."

This time, Sirius did not let himself formulate a reply. Instead, his silver stare bore into Remus', his eyebrows furrowing and lip curling. Remus could not tell if Sirius was angry at him or something else. Perhaps it made no difference.

Shaking his head, Remus slumped against the drooping back of the sofa. He decided to leave it and just sit in silence, for hadn't the past decade—more than that—been just silence? And he had been just fine.

Seeing that he would not be getting a reply from Remus, Sirius ground out, " _Remus_. Would you stop overthinking everything you say?"

Remus looked up sharply. The pair had realised what Sirius had just said—it might have been miniscule to everyone else, but Remus had not heard that name in so long. At least, not from Sirius' mouth.

Before _it_ , before everything—perhaps it had not even been real, or perhaps it was an entirely different universe—Sirius would never refer to Remus by his real name in such a conversational manner. _Before_ , it was all just affectionate and half-joking nicknames; it was just Moony and Moons and, sometimes, something more cliché and coupley.

"I- I'm sorry, then," Remus replied, making sure to not refer to Sirius by anything, for surely that would make things all the more worse.

"For fuck's sake, can you stop being _sorry_ for everything? I get James and Lily _killed_ and _you're_ the one who's sorry? Stop being all moralistic and righteous."

Remus knew that there was too much weight to what Sirius had said to go through it all. Of _course_ Sirius had not killed James and Lily, but Remus felt the thrumming of blood in his temple and knew that it had been too long a day.

"You couldn't have known, not ever, not at all," was what Remus went for, his voice straining with emotion. He wanted to yell, to grab Sirius by the hands and to embrace the other man and to soothe his troubled thoughts just as he had all those years ago, yet he _couldn't_. An invisible barrier had been built between them, and it would take more than a few kisses to break it down. It would take _talking about things_ , and Remus did not have it in him to do that. Not now, at least.

Sirius shrugged in acquiescence, knowing that arguing would be fruitless.

The side of Remus which just wanted to take Sirius into his arms seemed to win the mental battle. Remus could not just settle with a few words, and he felt the vigour of all those years ago; he felt the fury that he had when Sirius' family had disowned him and called him slurs, the terror mingled with ire when Death Eaters had sent a Killing Curse mere inches away from Sirius' body. Sirius was hurting, and there was nothing Remus could do about it, yet he _wanted_ to help. He _wanted_ to alleviate anything, anything at all, troubling Sirius. He wanted to take the gaunt man into his arms and nurse him back to health, to see the youthful joy restored in his beautiful, stormy eyes.

"Padfoot," Remus began, his voice weak and wavering, "I loved you. I _love_ you."

Sirius looked up upon hearing the last sentence. Maybe it was a surprise to him that, even after so much time had elapsed, Remus still loved him. Even after believing that he had killed everyone Remus held dear, the other man still loved him.

Neither of the two had ever spoken those words before. They had never had to. The words were always there, hanging unspoken like the sky above them; they knew that they loved each other just as they knew their blood ran thickly through their veins. There had never been a need to state the obvious, yet perhaps, in order to bridge a twelve-year gap, some people needed reminding of what used to be.


End file.
